When Rita Skimehorn was growing up in the 1970s, in Mascoutah, Illinois, it didn’t have a lot of options for entertainment. After high school football games and dances, there was really just one spot where everyone hung out: Pizza Hut.

Back then, pizza delivery wasn’t a big thing. Pizza Hut was a dine-in restaurant , with its red roof, red-checkered tablecloths, and red lights that hung over the tables. Skimehorn would make a Pizza Hut pilgrimage every Saturday, a habit she financed by cleaning her friend’s brother’s apartment for $5. “We could get a small pizza and two small sodas and still have 35 cents left for a tip,” she said.

For Skimehorn, Pizza Hut wasn’t just a restaurant—it was a second home. So, it was pretty much inevitable that she’d start working there when she turned 1

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